Mothers of Egypt
by Queen of Pi
Summary: Motherhood is so much more than a biological truth. Oneshot.


**Author's Note:** Thank you to my amazing beta Maya Bea. Also, thank you to my _reviewers _(hint,hint) rockergurl13 and Jellicle-in-the-box. I haven't changed much since I uploaded this, just a minor error.

**Disclaimer:** Naturally, I own nothing.

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Two women fought their way through crowd. Despite decades of being dead, both still carried themselves as they had in life. One had the proud and regal bearings of a queen, the other all the humility of a slave. Each wove their way through the throng until they arrived at the front. 

The Queen turned to the slave woman. "Who are you to greet Moses first? Even his brother and sister wait yonder. It is well known that the mother," she gestured towards herself, "is the first to greet anyone entering the afterlife."

The slave turned towards the Queen, incredulous. "I am his mother."

"You? You were a slave."

"And his mother."

"Where were you every time he had a bad dream? Where were you when he needed comfort? Where were you when he needed to show someone the excitement of youth? You were nowhere. It was I who was there for him and I am his mother."

The other women glanced at the Queen, her face unreadable. "And where were you when his life was at stake?"

For a moment, the Queen was taken aback. When was Moses life ever at stake? As a child, he had been in the palace, far from any who would seek to harm him. The only time his life was in any danger was when he returned and angered Pharaoh- oh. It was her husband, the former Pharaoh, who had decreed that male Hebrew babies where to die. She had always known her Moses was a Hebrew. The strange woman must have been referring to that.

"Does that make you his mother?" The Queen questioned, drawing on years of experience to lend all her force and authority to her question.

"I gave birth to him and did the only thing I could. Give him the chance of life."

"That doesn't change the fact that you weren't there _during _his life."

"You weren't there when he needed life."

The Queen stared down at the other woman. Even in death, no one had dared to contradict her point. She hated to admit it, but she was a little impressed by the firmness in the woman's voice.

"Has he ever called you mother? When he sees you will he see anything more than a strange woman?"

"Does that matter? You raised him and I thank you for it. But you have never, _never _been called upon to sacrifice for him."

"And you have? You hardly knew him, what can you have been called upon to sacrifice?"

"Him."

For a second time, The Queen was struck by the force of the slave woman's words. Where did a slave learn to speak so?

"And that makes you his mother? That you gave your son to the Nile?"

"I am his mother because I parted from him so he might have a chance at life, rather than a certain death."

"Yet he dies today."

"Yes." The sadness in the other woman's voice was overwhelming.

"But he will be reunited with you, are you not joyous?"

"Why should I take joy at my son's misfortune? Today he loses his wife and sons."

"It is a mother's sentiment to selflessly think nothing of her own happiness and only of her child's."

"Just as it is a mother's sentiment to look forward to finally seeing her son."

The two women stood in awkward silence.

"Please tell me of the life I gave him. Tell me of my son."

The silence hung in the air until the Queen slowly opened her mouth to answer.

"He was always brilliant…"

They talked of that for hours, discussing the only thing that had connected their two lives- Moses. The Queen was in the middle of relating one tale about a chariot race when someone in the crowd cried out.

All eyes immediately turned towards the horizon. A lone figure was coming towards them, his robes flowing in the wind.

He paused shortly to take in the scene that awaited him. Then without any hesitation, he threw his arms about the two women awaiting him.

"Mother."

He never specified whom he was calling mother.

No one felt the need to ask.


End file.
